


An American in Paris

by Nessa_T



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Holidays, M/M, Paris (City), Romantic Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:55:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28404336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nessa_T/pseuds/Nessa_T
Summary: Dean found himself alone in Paris for the holidays with nowhere planned to go - until he bumped into Cas and his friends at a popular gay bar. Their chemistry was off the charts and before Dean knew it, he was being swept away on an adventure with one of the most handsome man he had set eyes on, in the most romantic city that he had ever been in.However, once Dean’s six days of vacation were up, would this be goodbye forever? What did Castiel feel about him anyway? And who was the girl that kept texting / ringing Cas up in the middle of the night?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is loosely based on a true story of 3 gay bears I met in Europe. V, v educational. :3
> 
> Beta'd by [ Viridis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridis/pseuds/Viridis)

Dean Winchester did not know what compelled him to head over to Europe so close to Christmas. Perhaps he was dreading spending some family time with John during the holidays. His father had taken to drinking since Mary died years ago, and conversations between him and Dean were often difficult and painful. John missed his wife, and his hurt and depression often manifested themselves into harsh words and dressing down towards his elder son. Sammy had just enrolled in a University and wasn’t around much, so Dean was left to bear the brunt of all the disfavour and disapproval on his own.

Sometimes there was The Talk about his life choices - how Dean refused to settle down at a “stable” job. Refused to get married. Or have some kids. Instead, he has spent the last few years after graduating high school focusing on building his own small business, creating websites, graphic designs, and phone applications for corporate clients from the comforts of his own room. 

The hours were long, but the pay was good, and he was finally able to earn enough to rent a small place of his own and move out from his family house. When Dean found that he had enough money stashed away, the first thought he had was to book a flight and head out to Paris to enjoy the winter away from home for the first time in many years. 

Paris had always been overrated, in his opinion, and the Metro distinctly stank of piss even in winter. Yet his arrival at the Charles De Gaulle airport seemed almost like a homecoming of sorts. He had paused for a few moments, taking in the solemn faces of both local Parisians and tourists as they hurried about from terminal to terminal, climbing up and down escalators that did not work. Dean had huffed and sweated his way through the sluggish ebb and flow of fellow humans and crowded trains. His suitcase rattled along the cobbled streets, cold wind pressing into his face like a caress, as he made his way towards his AirBnB in the outskirts of the city at a quiet studio apartment in Kremlin-Bicêtre.

The Sun had long set when he arrived. His temporary home was comfortable enough. The bathroom was small and cramped, and the bed creaked obnoxiously every time he moved. Yet there was still a certain charm about the location he was at, with its gorgeous buildings across his own that glowed gold in the dead of night as the city slept and the wind howled its misery in the distance. From the apartment, Dean could barely make out the lights that flickered on and off in the apartment buildings around him, and he was suddenly and completely aware that he was alone and without friends in a strange country during the holidays.

“Fuck,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face and puttered around the kitchen to put together food he bought at the nearby convenience store on route to his apartment. He’s had a long flight, and he was hungry and tired. Nothing a few hours of sleep couldn’t fix, he thought, and after devouring his croissants and chugging some juice, he stumbled into bed still dressed, and snored into his pillow. 

Day 1 

It was the morning sunlight that woke him, along with the brisk air that fluttered in from a window that he forgot to close the night before. Dean groaned, his head heavy with sleep as he stumbled out of bed and eagerly stepped into a hot shower. The cascading water cleared the fog from his brain, and he stood there for a few minutes, wondering what the hell to do for the rest of the six days he had planned to stay in the city. 

It’s impulsive of him, to be honest. Dean had never really ventured outside of his hometown, what more head out to a different state. Yet here he was, miles away from the dull, mundane life he led, with nowhere planned to go and nothing to do. He could try to wander around the quiet neighbourhood for some casual sight-seeing and shopping, of course, but where was the fun in that?

Muttering under his breath, he slapped the tap shut and waded buck naked out of the shower, fishing around his bed for his phone. 

“I’m on a vacation dammit,” he grumbled, “and I’m going to enjoy myself whether I like it or not!”

He made a face at himself, then tapped both thumbs furiously on his mobile, searching for the nearest bar he could find. Not just _any_ bar of course. Dean was alone in a strange land with no familiar faces to pass dark, judgemental looks his way. So he looked for the best gay bar there was that Paris had to offer and chanced upon a popular spot a few Metro stations away from his apartment. 

It was still too early for drinks - the bar opened at six after all. So Dean decided to make the most of daylight by making plans to head over to the Louvre to stare at artworks and pretend to be inspired by the crafts of men and women long dead. He threw on a grey T-shirt, a leather jacket, and a pair of his best dark blue jeans.

The crowd at the museum was bearable and the low hum of human interactions was actually pleasant to listen to. Dean spent hours roaming around the building, his footsteps making light thumps on the marbled floor as he took inappropriate photos of nude statues and secret shots of lovers walking around hand-in-hand. A small pang of unhappiness bloomed in his chest, but he was determined to ignore it. He couldn’t remember the last time he was in a relationship - or when he last went to bed with someone who wasn’t a one night stand.

The hours passed quickly enough, and before long, the sun was dipping in the horizon, throwing a spectacular splatter of pink and orange across the sky. There was a mad rush towards the Metro just outside the museum, and it wasn’t long before Dean found himself almost chest to chest with some poor woman, desperately trying to avoid his gaze. 

“Wow, this is the closest I’ve been to anyone this month,” Dean muttered under his breath, flashing a wry smile in her direction. She slid him a small look and bit back a grin, her cheeks turning pink before busying herself with her phone. 

Thankfully, the journey was quick. Dean hurried out of the train carriage and made a beeline towards the bar. The crowd had since trickled in, and Dean could barely make out the sound of some loud, obnoxious music blaring from the speakers. He paused for a split second, straightened his clothes, and ran his fingers through his hair before steeling his resolve and made his way through the entrance of club RAIDD.

***

Fifteen minutes into the bar and Dean wanted desperately to leave. After all those years of feverishly working on his business and spending quiet nights drinking with some friends, walking into… whatever this was served a bit of a shock to his system.

The bar offered a unique form of entertainment, showcasing beefy and very, _very_ attractive men showering behind glass screens in nothing but underwear. They preened and rubbed soap over their bodies, muscles rippling and purposefully tugging on their semi-hard cocks right in front of their cheering spectators. 

The white-hot ripple that started from the crown of his head right down to his belly surprised him a little. It wasn’t a smart move in hindsight. Dean had wanted to not be alone, but sporting a boner right in the middle of a crowd was not something he relished feeling either. 

He would have made his way out the door if someone had not bumped into him and accidentally spilled beer all over his clothes.

“Fuck,” the stranger yelped, his expression both mortified and annoyed at the same time, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t being careful.” 

He was just a tad shorter than Dean, looking dapper in a blazer and a t-shirt, dark wavy hair damp with sweat and slicked back from his face as he juggled several bottles of both beer and wine in his arms. It was hard to tell under the neon pink and orange lights of the bar, but Dean was willing to bet that the stranger had one of the prettiest pair of eyes he had ever seen.

“Don’t worry about it. Do you need help? I’ll take those to your table,” Dean hollered over the music. The stranger’s face perked up a bit at the generous offer. 

“I’m Castiel. You can call me Cas,” he yelled back as he handed over several bottles that were hanging precariously from his fingers. “I’m with some friends. They’d love to meet you.”

Dean made his way gingerly towards Cas’s table, smiling a little at the way he wobbled and weaved through what seemed to be an endless sea of gyrating male bodies before reaching a table right outside the bar. There were two men waiting, both sporting impressive amounts of beard and wide smiles on their faces - one was dark-haired, and the other had blond hair and twinkling green eyes. 

“Cas, you made it!” the dark-haired guy said in a heavily accented voice as he eagerly received the drinks with both hands. “Who’s this pretty boy?” he continued, his voice piqued with interest - dark eyes staring into Dean's, just a tad flirty and forward. Dean bristled a little. The dude wasn’t his type. 

The light in the streets illuminated Cas’s face, and even in the semi-darkness outside the bar, Dean could tell that Cas’s eyes were a bright, startling shade of blue. 

“I’m Dean,” he said, extending a hand to shake. The dark-haired guy clasped it a little too long, and Cas shot him a look of amusement tinged with a slight hint of irritation. 

“This kiddo here is Ioannis, and he’s from Greece. You can call him John. He prefers it. Blondie’s from Norway. He goes by Karl,” Cas said before bringing a bottle of beer to his lips, taking a deep, satisfying draw. He sighed and licked his lips. Dean couldn’t help but stare. Just a little. 

And just like that, Dean got pulled into one of the strangest conversations and personalities for the day. The men, apparently, met over a terrifying match of Dead by Daylight on their Playstations and had been actively gaming together over the last couple of months. Cas said he had scared the neighbours as he yelled at the TV in the middle of the night. There had been hours of great connection, and after some discussion, Cas decided to take one step further and invited everyone to meet him in Paris. Hell, he even paid for John’s ticket like it was nothing. Un-fucking-believable.

“I didn’t care about the money. I _still_ don't,” Cas explained. “As long as he gets to come and enjoy the city with me, I’m good.”

“Can’t believe you actually did that, to be honest _,”_ Karl said with a chuckle, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. 

Dean slowly blinked at Cas’s direction, unable to believe what he heard. 

“You decided to meet total strangers in Paris just after a few months of knowing each other? Then you paid for someone’s air ticket and agreed to live together in the same apartment for two weeks?”

Cas tilted his head, his eyebrow raised in askance. “Yeah? We’re already having a great time. We spend hours together each day. I just thought it’ll be great to meet each other in real life, you know? I live for moments like that.”

“They could have been murderers, you know. They might have killed you in your sleep and robbed you,” Dean teased as he took a sip of his own drink. 

“Bitch,” Karl responded without heat, a smirk forming across his lips. John made some small protest at Dean’s comments before leaning over to whisper into Blondy’s ear. The Norwegian frowned and batted him away. Dean got the feeling he didn’t like that very much but decided to keep quiet, taking another drink of his beer. If Cas noticed the exchange, he said nothing either, his eyes flicking ever so often towards Dean. 

There was more small talk before Cas declared that he was done for the night and wished to be on his way to explore other parts of the city. Karl and John made some protest, but Cas cut them off amicably, linked arms with Dean, and began to pull him away from the bar. 

“I’ll talk to you guys later, then? Thanks for the company!” Dean called out, stumbling along as Cas led him away from his friends. Dean didn’t manage to hear a response and before he knew it, he was marched towards the nearest metro station a few minutes away from the bar.

“Where are we going?” Dean asked. He couldn’t help smiling. Cas had a determined look on his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief as a smirk playing lightly across those pink lips. 

“Your place, of course,” he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Unless you have somewhere else to be?” 

“ _I can’t believe this is happening,”_ came the small voice in Dean’s brain, but he squashed it down. Hard. He hadn’t gotten laid in months, and he wasn’t going to pass this up if Cas was offering what Dean thought he was offering. 

“Dinner first?” Dean ventured to ask as Cas slipped a warm hand into his. The man tilted his head for a brief moment then gave an enthusiastic nod, the corner of his lips lifting in an adorable, almost childlike smile. “Of course. _On y va_!” he declared as he started jogging towards the platform where the train had just pulled up and they squeezed into the full carriage, chests pressing so close to each other Dean swore he could feel Cas’s heart racing against his.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean takes Cas back to his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex scenes are hard. No pun intended.

_I got my mind made up and I can't let go._

_I'm killing every second 'til it sees my soul._

_I'll be running, I'll be running,_

_'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out._

_And we'll start a fire, and we'll shut it down,_

_'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out._

***

The conversations came quick and easy. Cas was full of laughter and charming stories, and Dean couldn’t help but be drawn towards the man standing before him - blue eyes wide with child-like excitement and nose wrinkling, lips lifted at the corners when he’s trying to think of the next funny story to share. 

Dean learned that Cas was the owner of a small company focused on social media management. So, like Dean, he spent most of his time in his home office, building up his list of Big Name clients to handle their Facebook and Instagram accounts. He seemed delighted to find out that Dean had years of experience in graphic designing, and even offered to work on some projects with him when they return to the States. 

“Here are my details. Hit me up when you get back home and we’ll see what we can do together,” Cas said, slipping a hand into his jacket, then pulling out a sleek name card. “I’m working with several businesses focused on co-working spaces. I’d need some help maintaining all their social media platforms.”

**Angel Corp.**

_Castiel Novak_

_Creative Director_

Dean struggled to maintain his balance as the train rattled along its tracks, his hands clutching onto the handles in a death grip. Cas decided then to surreptitiously slide the card into Dean’s back pocket, his fingers curling around the curve of Dean’s hips, his own face almost pressing into Dean’s neck in a ghost kiss. 

Dean felt a rush of heat in his belly, and against his will, his hips moved in a slow, irresistible grind against Cas’s. He felt his ears turn red, and almost slipped out a moan when Cas’s eyes met his - those impossibly blue eyes with pupils dilated in interest. 

“Fuck dinner,” Cas murmured into Dean’s ear, his hips making small frustrated movements against Dean. “Take me home. I need you.”

Dean didn’t need to be told twice as Cas clung to him like a barnacle, his clever hands slipping underneath Dean’s jacket, sometimes working under his t-shirt to stroke the small of his back, and other times sliding up his shoulders in a lover’s caress.“Yeah,” Dean whispered back, “yeah, we’re going straight home.” Cas smelled like sweat, smoke, and a hint of cinnamon, and Dean could barely make out a faint but full-bodied tremor going down Cas’s lean frame. 

Dean didn’t know if this public show of affection attracted the attention of those around him. Judging from the passengers’ stoic expression, they either missed the small circles Cas was massaging into this skin - or they just didn’t care.

The trip back home seemed to be impossibly long as the crowd eased out of the carriage one by one until there was only Cas and Dean left, hurtling towards their station. They were sitting side by side now, in relative silence - Cas with his warm hand resting on Dean’s knee and his other furiously texting his friends from the bar. There seemed to be a small argument that had sparked between the three of them, and Cas did not look like he was interested in engaging at the moment.

“Trouble in paradise?” Dean asked, watching as Cas’s brows furrowing in annoyance from time to time.

“John made a move on Karl,” he said, rolling his eyes dramatically, “and was promptly rejected. They’re fighting now. I’m so fucking done with them” Dean gave a low whistle and shook his head. “You guys are on a vacation though? I’m not sure what’s there to fight about. Are they okay?”

Cas waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, fuck them, I brought them out here to relax and enjoy Paris. If John wants to make an ass of himself on this trip, that’s on him,” he said, shoving his phone into his coat pocket. He did that head tilt again, his eyes watching Dean’s face for a few seconds, and then darted around him as he bit down gently on his own lips. Whatever he saw must have comforted him, because he then cupped Dean’s face in his palms and pulled his head down into a kiss.

“Are we there yet?” Cas asked, his voice muffled as his lips moved against Dean’s mid-kiss. Dean had to laugh. Impatient imp. 

“Next stop,” Dean promised with a grin as he prepared to exit the carriage. Cas bounded to his feet, excited, and once again slipped his hand into Dean’s arm.

***

Dean didn’t know how the hell they got to his apartment complex in one piece. Cas was all over the place, first wanting to buy some juice at the convenience store, and then wanting to grab some tarts from a bakery. They even spent a few minutes making out in the quiet alley leading up to their place where Cas had Dean pinned against the wall. Cas whispered into his ear, all the filthy things he intended to do to Dean when they got home, and before Dean could respond in kind, Cas was running off to answer an angry phone call from one of the boys at the bar. 

“No, I’m not coming home, John,” Cas said, wearing an expression that can only be described as ‘ _so done with your shit’_ , “One of you can sleep in the living room so you don’t have to share the bed? You can order food if you’re hungry. Use my credit card. And leave Karl alone for now. He’s still mad at you.”

Cas listened in a little longer as Dean pulled him into the tiny elevator leading up to his apartment. Thankfully, his network was cut off, so Cas hung up and he turned his gaze towards Dean. He smiled in apology. 

“Sorry. They’re driving me fucking insane,” he laughed, ruffling his own hair in annoyance. Dean grinned back, punching a button with a knuckle and fished out his keys from his pocket. “You sure you don’t need to go back to babysit them?”

The door to the elevator slammed shut, and before Dean realised what was happening, he was _again_ pinned against the wall, with Cas’s tongue curling into his mouth. “Whoa, whoa, slow down there, big guy. We got all night,” Dean purred, watching as Cas pawed impatiently at his belt. The elevator slowed to a halt, then both men stumbled out into the semi-dark corridor as a lone light flickered on.

“Hurry,” Cas said, his voice deepening into a rasp as Dean approached the door and began fumbling with the lock. It would have gone a lot faster if Cas had not pressed up behind him, stuck a tongue into Dean’s ear, slipping a warm hand into Dean's boxers. 

“Jesus Christ,” Dean said with a short laugh. The door finally swung open and Cas leaped into his arms, long legs wrapped around Dean’s waist, arms wrapped around his neck. Dean could barely keep up with what was happening. He felt the door close, saw the light flicked on in the apartment, and then he was naked and ushered into the bathroom for a warm shower. Cas, to his credit, was thorough, washing both Dean and himself before dropping down to his knees to take Dean’s stiff cock into his mouth. 

Dean watched, almost mesmerised as those pink lips wrapped around him, Cas’s tongue flicking from time to time over the head of his penis as he tugged on his own. 

“Bed?” Cas whispered when he came up for air, eyes impossibly blue as he peered questioningly into Dean’s. Dean could barely speak, so he nodded his head, his fingers threading through Cas’s hair. 

Dean tried to be gentle. It had been some time since he had someone in his bed, and he wanted to do things _right_. Wanted to make it good for Cas, and hear this fucking angel scream his name till his throat was raw. It was hard to slow down, however - especially with Cas raking red grooves down Dean’s freckled back. So Dean had thrown Cas’s legs over his shoulders, wrapped his fingers around Cas’s, and… well… pounded him into the mattress the way Cas wanted him to.

Then Cas was close, his eyes fluttering shut, biting on his lips, and Dean could feel himself right at the edge with him. “Right there.. Rightthere… right THERE,” Cas chanted, almost delirious before falling silent, squeezing Dean’s hands in a death grip. Then there was a white flash of heat and they both found release with Dean biting down into Cas’s shoulder to muffle his voice.

The quiet that came after was comforting as they lay in bed, a trembling mass of tangled limbs. Dean listened as Cas’s ragged breathing slowly leveled out into deep, calming breaths.

_That was so good_ , Dean wanted to say, reaching out to cup Cas's face - but Castiel was already fast asleep on his chest, exhausted and spent. Dean did not know if Cas had intended to sleepover, but hearing the gentle snores in his ear, he was glad he had company for the night. 

At least it did not feel so damn lonely anymore, and Dean - Dean was good with that.


End file.
